


Goodbye Again

by yuma (yuma_writes)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Language, Post-The Year that Never Was (Doctor Who), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Retcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29570388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuma_writes/pseuds/yuma
Summary: Sometimes, we bump into familiar faces and do not even know it.
Relationships: Jack Harkness & Ianto Jones
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Goodbye Again

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the multifandom fanzine _Brotherhood 5_ , 2008

It wasn't a Weevil, after all. 

Rather, it was a very soused, barrel-chested man with a shrieking, waif-thin girlfriend, who dressed more like a teenager than her true age. They stood absolutely oblivious to the newly formed rift crack sparkling like new copper two meters away. They were still arguing about somebody's brother when Jack Harkness hurried them away with his usual charm.

"Piss off!" the woman screeched, tugging at her fuchsia strapped top as they left. Jack merely waved a jaunty goodbye. She replied with a very rude finger. 

"Nice," Owen grumbled out of the corner of his mouth as he watched them storm off down the alley. He smirked. "I can see why he likes her."

Ianto resisted rolling his eyes and kept them firmly on his PDA scanner instead. He avoided listening to Owen recount to Gwen about a blonde just like the other and her choice words. Owen, at the time with few too many pints in him, had found her…alluring.

Because he didn't want to be privy to the likes and dislikes of Owen's previous paramours (Gwen didn't seem to want to either, for that matter), Ianto stayed with his scanner and discretely wandered closer towards the rift and away from the snatches of Owen's "…bit of a yeller but definitely a handful if you know what I mean…" By Gwen's outraged replies, Ianto was sure she most certainly didn't want to know what Owen means either.

Eyes fixed on his scanner, Ianto didn't notice someone new joined them until he heard clips of another conversation. Ianto looked up at Jack's terse voice. 

The new arrival was shabbily dressed in what looked like were once quality clothes. A uniform, perhaps? He could be Gwen's younger sibling. His floppy dark hair empathized the gauntness of his pale, freckled face. It looked like he was sleeping in the nearby discarded carton in the alley. He slouched like he was old, yet despite the unshaven face and haunted eyes, Ianto could tell he was quite young. A boy, really. 

In a high, distressed voice, the lad kept muttering, "We had no choice." And something about a master. For some reason, the newcomer was apologizing over and over again to Jack.

"It's alright." Jack sounded strained for some reason. "You're…you're okay."

His captain volleyed the man's rambling with reassuring words in a flat voice that didn't betray the discomfort his straight back displayed. The boy didn't act like a typical vagrant, asking for a free quid or two. Jack, however, looked unusually uncomfortable. Jack appeared to be restraining himself from striking the young man. Every so often, however, when the other bemoaned and commiserated about a master, Jack's voice cracked a syllable before it steadied and his hands would flex into fists against his sides.

Jack caught his presence out of the corner of his eye before Ianto could retreat. He gestured to Ianto to approach. Jack smiled, a tight upturn of the mouth that looked painful, and he made as if to take the hysterical man by the elbow. At the last moment, though, Jack stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and pretended that was what he intended to do all along.

"Ianto," Jack called out in a measured voice. Ianto could tell Jack was trying to pull off as casual. He wasn't fooled and Jack neatly avoided looking at him as if he knew as well. "This is Alan Stow. Could you stay with him for a second? I need to talk to Owen."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "Of course, sir." He took another step closer until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Alan. The young man would have stood taller than Ianto, but he hunched over a few centimeters off his ear. He stood there, shivering despite his many layers, staring after Jack as if he was afraid the captain would disappear.

"Hang on a tick," Ianto murmured when a violent shudder wracked the poor boy's body. Was he cold? Perhaps some hot coffee? Ianto always kept a thermos replenished in the car; Jack tended to get oddly irate if not sufficiently supplied with caffeine. Jack coped with skipping meals fine (and often he did as time ironically slips past his scrutiny), but his coffee? Ianto mused absently on whether it was due to Jack's immortality. He watched Owen and Gwen erupt into some sort of protest over whatever Jack was telling them. 

"We had no choice…"

Eh? Ianto blinked and tilted his head down. He met the cloudy green eyes, puzzled.

"He-he was going to kill my family…" Alan stammered. He no longer watched Jack. He fixed his gaze on Ianto. His eyes begged for understanding. "He was going to… I wouldn't do it. But the Master…" Alan shrunk before him. "My little sister. He killed her…he did when I said I couldn't hurt him anymore…" A sob broke free. Alan stared at his hands curled in front of him before he buried his face with them.

"There, there," Ianto murmured hesitantly. He glanced back over to the car. The three were still arguing. Owen's arm gestures grew wilder. Gwen took a step back to avoid the flailing limbs. 

"Oh God…Ginny…" Alan was still going, sobbing, choking, with snot dripping down his nose. "He fucking killed them all in front of us when we wouldn't—they were all dead, but now they're not…You were all dead, but now you're not, too. I don't understand. I saw you all…" Alan grabbed the sides of his head. Ianto tensed; he wondered if Alan was having some sort of fit. 

"No one remembers…" Alan sounded so confused. "But I do…" He grabbed Ianto by the sleeves with a ferocity that took Ianto by surprise. "I remember… _Everything!_ The screaming! God…the screaming…he died and died, but he'd always come back! I can't stop hearing it…" Alan's head dropped. "I promise…God, I promise…" he whimpered, "We didn't want to…"

A lump chilled in his belly. Ianto found he couldn't speak. He gawped at Alan. He discovered he couldn't stare at the old young man any longer. He now has an inexplicable and desperate need to know where Jack was. He turned back towards his teammates in time to see Jack shove a tiny vial of Ret-con pills at Owen's chest. His face was ashen, but his eyes were iron dark as he pivoted sharply in an almost military fashion and stalked away. Jack ignored whatever Owen shouted at his back, but Ianto could read lips a little. He averted his gaze when he read 'bastard' and 'fucking sod.'

The stern expression Jack wore made Ianto take a step back before he realized it. Jack halted at the reaction. Chagrin swept over him and Jack's shoulders slumped; just a little if anyone knew how to look for it. 

"Alan," Jack began. He neatly sidestepped the young man's reach and sidled up to Ianto instead. Ianto has the strange urge to block Alan's view of their captain in return. 

"I'm sorry," Alan babbled. He grabbed Ianto's elbow, would have grabbed Jack's, but Jack recoiled. "Oh God. I'm so very, very sorry." 

It was a pitiful sight; Alan hiccupped and could barely be comprehensible. "Sorry," "Master," and "We didn't want to" were all Ianto could make out.

"It's okay," Jack said awkwardly. His hand hovered over Alan's shoulder before dropping over the rounded muscle. He gave it an awkward pat. "I…I forgive you."

Alan had released Ianto, clinging to Jack as he fought to stay upright. At Jack's words, however, he'd all but collapsed against him. Ianto couldn't help the wave of pity for the lad as he sobbed on Jack's chest as he grabbed fistfuls of Jack's greatcoat.

"Oi." Owen wore a more agreeable face when he jogged up to them. He grimaced at Alan, avoided looking at Jack and nodded curtly at Ianto.

"Okay, mate," Owen said in an easy-going voice as he extradited Alan's desperate grip from Jack's coat. He surprised Ianto by draping an arm around Alan's shoulders. "Come on. You thirsty? We got a nice cold bottle of water for you…"

"Go with them," Jack ordered with a weary wave of his hand. It was a poorly executed dismissal, but Ianto trailed behind Owen, distinctly uncomfortable with the plea in Jack's eyes. He could sense Jack moving off, disappearing past his peripheral vision. 

Ianto said nothing as he watched Owen surreptitiously dropped two retcon pills in the water. Hm. Level eight. Very strong and very harsh. And judging by Gwen and Owen's twin scowls, it was not with their mutual blessing.

Alan quieted in a few minutes, slumped in the backseat of the SUV after a few mouthfuls. 

"Let's go," Owen said brusquely as he climbed into the driver's seat. Gwen sat back with young Alan. She was straightening the boy's collars with a maternal air. "Tosh said the bloke's family lives in Hardell. It's a ways from here." Owen shook his head in disgust. "With the dose I gave him, he'll sleep until morning."

"He's just a boy," Gwen muttered, not bothered by the fact Alan was slumped against his shoulder. She pursed her lips as she rearranged Alan's hands to his lap. "I think he's barely older than Tosh's little brother." She lifted her gaze and looked out the car window. "I can't believe Jack would want us to—" Gwen tore her gaze away, her mouth pressed thin.

"And Jack wouldn't say why," Owen agreed. He leaned over a little and looked past Ianto. Owen's eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted to a scowl. Ianto suspected he knew who it was for. 

"He looks much more peaceful, though," Ianto noted. The two studied him, then Alan.

"Yeah," Owen grumbled reluctantly. "He was a mess before. Completely bonkers."

"So Jack may have his reasons," Ianto concluded. He leveled a steady look at Owen.

"I suppose," Owen shrugged. "It's probably one of Harkness's deep, dark secrets again."

It was hard sometimes to keep his temper in check with Owen. "Perhaps," he returned in an even tone and fought the urge to box Owen's ears. Harper could be such a prat.

"Aren't you coming?" Gwen realized Ianto stood by the driver's window and made no move for the door.

Ianto was tempted to turn around, but instead, he shook his head. "No. I'll stay here and finish up the readings."

"Are you sure?" Gwen leaned in-between the driver and passenger's seat. She peered up at Ianto with open concern. "It may be a while before we can return."

"We'll take a taxi." Now Ianto did glance over his shoulder. Jack circled and studied the glittering fissure like it was a Grecian statue. His face revealed nothing, but he did glance up. His brow furrowed when he saw they were still there. His eyes drifted to the SUV as if trying to see Alan. An odd expression flitted across his face. But then he looked back down at his scanner.

Owen was looking past Ianto with a shrewd look. Something flitted across his face. His face eased fractionally and a light dawned in his eyes. He grunted, twisted around and retrieved two water bottles. 

"Call us on the mobile if you need a lift back," Owen instructed as he passed the water to Ianto. He exchanged a look with Gwen through the rear mirror and then gave another unreadable look to Ianto.

"Watch him," Owen said suddenly. Then Owen was gone before Ianto could respond.

Ianto watched until the SUV was too far away to see any more and went back to Jack. 

The rift crack was completely ignored now. Jack leaned against the brick wall of one building. Ianto grimaced at the stains of old beer and whatnot on the wall, but Jack took no notice. The captain was bent over, his hands braced on his knees, his head hung low to his chest. His breathing was low and ragged.

"They've left, sir." Ianto gingerly leaned against the wall next to him. He studied the bowed head a moment before he tucked one water bottle under his arm, twisted open the other, and held it out to Jack wordlessly.

Jack merely grunted. He accepted the water Ianto offered and emptied half the bottle before he stopped.

"How long?" Ianto asked quietly after Jack finished.

"One year, one month," Jack stated flatly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Ianto's right eyebrow rose. "That long?"

"Not for everyone," Jack corrected him. "For some, it's barely a day." 

Jack's eyes were distant. He stared at where the rift opening was. It flickered and wavered; it was dying. It will be gone soon. No one else will know it was ever there.

Ianto sighed to himself. It was frustrating when Jack explained himself in riddles. He'd never met anyone who could talk so much, yet say so little. He watched out of the corner of his eye at Jack as he finished the rest of the water. Jack raised his head as he capped the now empty container.

There was that strange look again—a longing Ianto couldn't understand. But it fled too quickly for him to decipher. Then, Ianto realized what it was. Envy.

"You wish it were _you_ we were retconning," Ianto guessed. 

Jack jerked, spun around and gave him a narrow, almost angry look, his mouth compressed thin and unhappy. He straightened and with an abrupt motion, a strong swooping gesture like a pitcher, Jack threw the empty water bottle like a ball down the alley. Ianto flinched as he heard it rattled against empty metal bins meters away.

"That's littering," Ianto pointed out mildly.

"So arrest me!" Jack snarled in return. He stomped away. He stood at the center, legs apart, chest heaving as he surveyed around himself. Without warning, Jack kicked a few bins. He sent a beer can skittering away with a kick. The discarded cardboard box that served as Alan's shelter flattened under his boots. Jack's greatcoat whipped around his legs when Jack kicked a disused lamp someone discarded. It flew and splintered in a myriad of colorful shards against the wall. A few empty plastic bottles danced and dented under Jack's hands. 

"Jack," Ianto called out, stopping Jack as he was about to pull back a fist to strike at a newspapered window. "That's enough," Ianto added quietly.

The fist stayed afloat for moments before it dropped and dangled lifelessly against Jack's hip. Jack deflated, his shoulders slumping as the fight left him in a long sigh. He stared blankly on the ground. He stood there at the eye of the storm, gulping for air as he hung his head. 

Ianto ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. His heart was still hammering. "Better?" he asked in as calm of a voice he could muster.

Jack laughed strangely. "Not really."

"Ah." Ianto nodded and pretended to give it some thought. "Well, I'm sure we can find more refuse if we search. Cardiff does not want for garbage."

It was a sad sort of smile Jack gave him over his shoulder before it crumpled to self-loathing. "I wanted to kill him."

"Ah." Ianto pushed back the flutter of surprise and fear from his face. He swallowed and fought to keep his voice steady. "I see."

Another laugh. This one made Ianto's gut ache.

"No, you don't. That's the point. Thank God, you don't see."

Jack stepped away from his destruction and pulled his coat closed, buttoning it all the way. Ianto suddenly felt like Jack was out of reach.

Ianto stared at his profile. He tried to read the shadowed gaze but found, as he often did, Jack Harkness held his secrets, his miseries, close to his heart.

"Who was he?" Ianto matched gazes when Jack lifted his head. "Was he…back when you were…" Ianto paused before he added diplomatically, "Away?"

Jack said nothing for a long time. Ianto was resigned to yet another unfinished conversation when to his surprise, Jack nodded. It was, Ianto thought to himself as he ventured closer, a bittersweet victory. 

"The Master liked to just watch sometimes," Jack bit out.

"The Master?" Ianto winced when Jack tensed. 

After a beat, Jack relaxed. He shrugged. "Let's say we don't have to worry about him anymore."

"Ah…I see." He didn't really. Ianto turned his head and studied where the SUV was before.

"It was mercy you had Owen retcon him," Ianto realized. 

"He was just a boy." Jack huddled into his coat, his voice barely audible. "Within months, he wasn't even a man."

The hollow explanation crawled up Ianto's back like an insect. He blinked rapidly, told himself it was because of the dust (no one ever considered how dirty alleys can be) and tried to find something appropriate to say. He couldn't. It felt like saying sorry would just be too cruel. 

"It can't be me," Jack said cryptically, referring back to Ianto's previous question. "I wish it was, but there are things…" Jack's voice firmed. "It can't be me." Jack wore his exhaustion like a cloak around his shoulders. He stood in the center of the alley. He stared at what his temper wrought as if seeing it for the very first time. Jack closed his eyes, grimaced, and shook his head in disgust.

"Come on. Let's call a taxi—"

"Actually," Ianto interrupted. "I was thinking of walking."

Jack stared. "We're thirty minutes away by car," he reminded Ianto. 

Ianto shrugged. "Then it shouldn't be too far of a walk, sir." He gestured towards the sky with the other plastic bottle. "It's a nice day. I am familiar with the area." He lifted his shoulders a little before he dropped them.

With a blink, Jack followed the direction of his bottle towards the flawless sky. Another blink and he stared at Ianto. Slowly, Jack grinned.

"Ianto Jones, are you suggesting we play hooky?"

"Of course not," Ianto retorted with an injured tone he knew didn't fool Jack. He was glad to see the shadows recede from Jack's face even though he knew it was only fleeting. "There is nothing wrong with a bit of healthy exercise." He tossed his bottle at Jack, who caught it neatly. 

"No." Ianto didn't turn around, but he heard Jack's warm voice rumble with gratitude. "Nothing wrong with that." Jack could be heard hurrying his steps; he quickly matched his stride. 

As soon as they exited the alley, Jack took a deep breath. He acted as if he hasn't in a long time. The captain kept up with Ianto, content to let Ianto take charge for once.

"Thanks," Jack spoke low enough for Ianto's ears only. "I think this is exactly what I needed."

"It was either this or look for another alley," Ianto retorted. He smiled to himself when Jack chuckled. Ianto stopped in front of one shop and studied the barista machine on the window.

"I know you all have questions," Jack started.

"It's alright," Ianto murmured. He frowned at the price displayed on the window. No, too impractical to get for Gwen for her wedding. Ianto gave Jack a small smile. "For now."

Jack looked relieved. His mouth crooked to what Ianto heard Americans referred to as a goofy smile. 

"This _is_ a good idea," Jack remarked as they stopped by another shop window. He stretched out his arms, looking a bit more energized. "The exercise will do us good."

"Besides," Ianto continued, his steps quickening down the street before Jack registered it. "A nice walk might get rid of all those chocolate pastries before Gwen's wedding."

Ianto bit back a smile, hurried and pulled away as his words sank in. Jack yelped indignantly and chased after him.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, again, yet _another_ fic dealing with the _"Year that Never Was."_ Sorry. (Actually, not really, LOL)
> 
>   
> \--------
> 
> Feedback is like cookies.
> 
> I _like_ cookies! LOL.


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